NPC Xanadu Hatching: November 29, 2005

Xanadu Weyr - Hatching Sands

The large circular "stage" is surrounded on one half by a towering wall, thin slit windows high overhead letting in some light without truly endangering the objects on the sands, though plenty of lights are spaced at human-level all the way around. The other half is ringed by the dark blue seats of the observation level, rising upwards towards the back wall. The circle itself is filled with a mix of red and white sands, deep enough to cover the largest of dragon eggs with ease. To one side, a small door is visible, hidden away behind a platform meant to provide a place for the clutch parent's lifemates to stand during the on goings.

Calanth may appear to be sleeping, but she's not. Curled off in a corner, she fidgets irritatedly. Casiella doses near her, impervious to the heat of the sands, as she's perched on one of Calanth's vast paws. Calanth turns her head to look at her sleeping rider, then turns it back to gently push one of her hard eggs. It twitches, then seems to gain a little momentum, shivvering before coming to a stop. Calanth shifts, uneasily, then eyes her rider again, grumbling to herself.

Zsuzsath slinks in from outside, approaching Calanth carefully. On his neck, J'ymi is cradling a small bundle and glancing around anxiously. But he's not willing to dismount until his bronze is sure that a certain young gold isn't going to tear him apart for being so absent.

Calanth raises her head as Zsuzsath slinks in, rumbling low. She snorts softly, eyeing Aelith, then snorts again. She seems unsure of whether to scold, or actually be relieved that he showed up for the important part. She goes with relieved, and perhaps slightly smug, since T'eo isn't yet in sight. Casiella does what she's good at, snoozing on, even as another of the eggs twitches.

Aelith shifts, wide awake now that the barrier has been removed, the older gold's tail lashes to and fro. She snarls, briefly, at the arriving Zsuzsath, but calms at a silent caution from her rider. Aeris is off away from the main group on the sands, though close enough so that if she needs to be at her gold's side, she can make it in rather short time. The plump woman seems a bit pale. She moves just a tad closer to Aelith, just in case.

Zsuzsath croons softly and rubs his muzzle along the gold's neck, peeking at her with bright, whirling eyes. Aelith is completely ignored - she's not his business. He'll leave her up to Raenth. Assured that she isn't going to rather unceremoniously expell them from the Sands, the bronzerider slides down his dragon's neck and approaches the sleeping Casiella. "Casi," he murmurs softly, holding the bundle carefully out of reach of flailing goldrider - just in case. "I think you want to awaken."

Niva has quickly made her way to the scene, arriving only a short while before the candidates, having been alerted to just what is happening. Glancing around, she moves to take up a place on the platform, flinging a variety of curses at Casiella as she nears. "Useless girl, wakeup!" And a swat is aimed for the Junior before she looks hurriedly around.

Raenth and T'eo show up, just in time, and take their position on the sands for the crackling of eggs.

Bhajaer, Delmont, and Yelira are amongst the candidates shuffling their way onto the Sands, talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers. Yelira almost stumbles as during the bow to the clutch parents, but recovers, and they move to take their spot around the eggs.

Watcher of the Bay Egg starts to do its movement then, but then it stills, movement ceasing.

Aelith turns to regard the arriving candidates, snarling briefly, but calming after she realizes they're here for a good reason. The older gold remains near her clutch, back turned, now, to Calanth and her group. Aeris rubs the gold's side briefly, "It's alright, Love, it'll over in no time." And the pair turn to their group of eggs, watching expectantly.

Casiella starts upwards, Calanth's throbbing hum waking her more affectively then either silly Senior or gentle bronzerider. She sits upwards, blinking blearily, then groaning. "Oh, Calanth, I'd just gotten to get a nap. You and your kids. None of you have good timing. You must get that from your mother." She glowers at Niva as the woman flaps off, muttering under her breath, then turns a weary smile to J'ymi, holding her arms out so he can catch her as she slips off the back of the gold's paw, so Calanth can go tramp around. Already, the gold is fidgeting irritably, but much too polite at this point to throw Casi off. The gold does turn to snarl back at Aelith, then snarl and growl at the Candidates, snapping in annoyance.

Roarke isn't a Candidate, but Tobi and Maikan are. Twins from Fort, they step onto the sands together, hand in hand. The female of the pair, Tobi, leans over to her brother and whispers softly, sending both children giggling as they join the circle around the eggs.

J'ymi holds out one arm to catch the girl as she slides from the gold's paw, smiling tiredly at her. "I imagine I'll be in for some words when I return to Eastern. I'm afraid we flitted out without a word. C'mere, little sister. Let's watch the children of our dragons come into the world."

Galinda is in the midst of the candidates, fresh-faced, with golden ringlets escaping her ponytail. Beside her is Elphaba, looking a little green in the gills. "Elphie, calm down!" Galinda whispers urgently. "You'll never be considered if you can't contain yourself!" And yet she manages to make this come off as perfectly sweet, whilst patting Elphaba's arm. The other girl smiles just a little bit.

His Ethereal Majesty Egg wobbles, then rests, then wobbles, then rests, then wobbles and rolls right into one of its clutchsiblings.

Podium of Statues Egg wriggles within the embrace of the sands, shedding grains everywhere before stilling again.

Tenya, the littlest of Candidates, is at the very back, tugged along by her 'big sister', Evelyn. "Come along, silly girl." Evelyn says soothingly to the little girl, then scowls as the bully of the clutch, a big boy named Robiante, staggers in.

Bhajaer stands up straighter as Robiante enters, clearing his throat and glaring at the other boy before he shakes his head, and goes back to watching the eggs, hiding his nervousness rather well.

Exotic Foliage Egg has started moving, and cracks cover the shell, some big, some small.

Alana, known to many as Headwoman Aervis' fosterling and thusly Aeris' niece, sortof, heads out on the sands by herself. She stands, shifting, amongst the group of candidates. Aeris offers a soft smile to the girl, barely old enough to stand, and rubs Aelith's side to point out the youngster.

His Ethereal Majesty Egg starts to do its movement then, but then it stills, movement ceasing.

Suspended Archway Egg Egg can withstand no more

Exchanging the World Bronze Hatchling
The dusky hue of ancient coins is embossed on this stocky bronze, hanging heavily over his broad muzzle and thick neck. So dark and richly metallic is his hide, he appears as though his very being is mailed in coins, coins muddy enough to have spent an eon submerged in some ancient sunken city. His wide chest is richly coated in the same monetary shade, swirls of softer golden hues just managing to peek out from the darkness. Dusky legs are heavier than most dragons, seemingly cast from solid bronze, dark down to his razor sharp talons. Surprisingly wide wings are the deep coin color, and even the translucent sails seem as though they should clink when they move. His fat belly is shot through with pale whispers of gold, but only the smallest tendrils seep through the heavy currency to brush his solid haunches with light. His dark bronzen tail is kept daintily aloft, deeply shadowed down to the very tip.

Tobi gasps at the first hatchling, and tugs on her brother's hand. "Look! It's a bronze. Maybe it's for you?" Maikan shrinks back from the newest addition to Xanadu's family, hiding his face in his twin's shoulder, until she pushes him away. "You shouldn't be scared," she scolds him, but he stubbornly refuses to look at the bronze.

The young lad Khelin is hustled onto the Sands - one of those last minute Searches as the dragon and rider were on their way to the Hatching. Khelin looks rather terrified to tell you the truth, as he tugs on his robe over his clothes and shivers, pale from between. He shuffles towards the other Candidates, "Hi," he whispers.

Galinda and Elphaba form a two-person lump, clinging together with wide eyes - for different reasons. Galinda is simply gleeful, while Elphaba is half in terror, half in curiousity. "Hey, it's good luck," one of them blurts out. It is unclear which of them said this.

Calanth snorts at her hatching eggs, growling again scarily at the Candidates, and rising up big and threatening over her eggs. She snorts as the first to Hatch is one of Aelith's, looking a little scary. Casi moves against J'ymi, guiding him away from Calanth. "She's just playing, enjoying herself a little bit." She murmurs to him. "You should hear her laughing. She's been downright bored all this time."

J'ymi slides his arm around Casiella's waist, placing the bundle in her arms as they move. "Oh, Zsuzsath's shrieking in glee. He's so thrilled - all these new babies for him to play with. He does love his children, does my boy." Head tilts back slightly as he smiles upwards at the bronze, then he looks back to the goldrider with an amused expression. "Don't break that if you can help it. It's the best apology I can give for being gone so long/"

Khelin stares up at Calanth as the big queen growls, and shrinks back towards the exit. He hasn't been prepared for this. Then, with a grim look of determination he strides back to the cluster of Candidates, even pushing his way to the front and waving at the bronze hatchling. "Hey! Over here!"

Exchanging the World Bronze Hatchling trumpets loudly, like funny sounding horn, as he finds himself outside of what had been a safe shell. And he quickly moves across the sands, bridging the distance between himself and the candidates without hesitance.

Proclaimer of Time Egg flinches, then falls still. Calanth pauses in her growling and snapping to nose it, creeling. But then another Candidate gets to close, and she snarls, rising up over her Eggs again. Any dragon in the vicinity, however, can hear her mental laughter.

Alana is sure to keep away from Calanth, she stays close to Aeris, Aelith, and Aelith's clutch, shiftinf nervously. "Auntie, she's not gunna eat us, is she?" The girl asks in a squeaky voice of the older junior weyrwoman.

His Ethereal Majesty Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Corrosion of Honor Bronze Hatchling
Brilliant like the sun, enormous, and godly. This bronzen boy is so coppery that he appears almost a rosey gold. Over his hide are tracings of darker brassy bronze, emphasizing an almost stylized dragon figure like some ancient but geometrical drawing. But despite his apparent glory of figure and color, here and there are greenish smudges of corrosion. From the underside of his tail, belly and up his legs a darker more bronzen hue appears, as if the shiney copper-gold was merely plating which, in time, has begun to flake away. His muzzle bears some of the same flaking coupled with greenish corrosion that reaches up his snout but offsets, drastically, the ivory copper rings around his glittering eyes. This same ivory spreads over his ridges and wingsails, though, like a ghostship with tattered sails, here and there a patch seems to have flakes away, revealing the bronze underneath.

Podium of Statues Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Risen From The Tomb Green Hatchling
Palest jades and give this greenling a ghostly appearance, emphasized with darker grey greens. They wrap about her tiny form like shrouds, the gentlest green dove tones rippling along in lines. She's almost mummified in these wraps of green. Her body is skeletal, but presents the potential for a lovely, but slim, figure. Traces of baby fat run along her haunches and over her belly, but not enough to hide ribs. Or… are those just grey-green markings? Perhaps. To gives emphasis to her phantom form, darker foresty jades haunt the sockets around her glittering eyes, her eye ridges almost white. The same silvery white runs over her face in a skull like pattern, for the shroudlike wraps end at the base of her neck. The white continues to etch down in patches, maintaining the bone patterns untill they 'disapear' beneath the 'shrouds'. Here an there the 'shrouds' are ripped, revealing the same dark greens that offset her skull like face. Again a pseudo white jade skeleton appears beneath.

Tobi dances as more hatchlings emerge. "Another bronze! And a green! Maikaaaan! Look at them! Just look!" Her voice is shrill over the general hatching din, and she doesn't even seem phazed by Calanth's posturing. Her brother finally takes a peek, then stares, jaws dropping. "But - they're all wrinkled! And wet!" And beautiful, from the way his gaze follows the newcome hatchlings. No more fear here, he might just trail them across the Sands to keep a steady eye on them.

Galinda eyes the boy waving at the bronze with some distaste. "Really. You'd think he could wait for the dragon to find him…," she mumbles to Elphaba, who is watching the two new arrivals. Galinda follows her gaze, and snickers. "Look at that, you're almost as green as she is. You're not going to throw up, are you?" Elphaba scowls at Galinda, and edges away from her, towards, say, Tobi. But she doesn't say anything.

Beneath the Bronze Sun Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Beacon in the Night Brown Hatchling
Soft, sand-colored hide skims over the long, slender form of this brown dragon. A light tan in shade, it's frosted with streaks of silver-kissed light, straight-shot spears gliding down his flanks to decorate his legs. His long, whip-like tail is gilded with a pair of shooting beams, so light as to be white, set with an inner irridesence that captures the light, making them almost seem to glow. Even his wings are so blessed, spars a brilliant silver, sails a translucent platinum, veins streaking like green bolts beneath the fragile hide. From his large, wedge-shaped head to the spaded tip of his tail, neck ridges march down his back with stately precision, frosted umber and dramatic against the light color of his hide.

Beacon in the Night Brown Hatchling is almost blinding as he flashes out of the remains of his shell, so brilliant against all that glistening sand. Trumpeting with glee, he flaps his wings and peers around, looking for something… something just right.

Exchanging the World Bronze Hatchling finds something interesting, it seems, as he sticks his head into the pair that is Galinda and Elphaba. He'll be good luck! But, wait. Something isn't quite right. And so, he withdraws, moving down the line, flicking his tail at Khelin before stopping before Robiante, snorting in his stomach, and looking up at the bully. His! Something bigger, and badder, and a bully in his own right. Fear.

Corrosion of Honor Bronze Hatchling spills forth from his egg and immediately lets out a bugle, announcing his arrival. With a strong shake of head, the bronze sends egg-goo flying every which way. Not wanting to waste much time, he's immediately headed towards the candidates, at a steady lumbering pace, he's on a mission.

Khelin drops his hands to his sides and scowls at the bronze who passes him by. "Bah, doesn't know what he's missing," the egotistical lad mutters, and begins walking down the line of Candidates as if he were picking out a dragon and not the other way around. Of course, he's focused mainly on the bronze, as all young boys are. Power. Glory. Mwahahaha!

Risen From The Tomb Green Hatchling sits whre she's deposited on the sands, as if stunned by the effort. She's still, and unmoving. Maybe she needs a moment to catch her breath.

Marble Sanctuary of Nature Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Exotic Foliage Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Goddess of the Wilds Green Hatchling
Lean, slender, sleek. A pointed muzzle and flattened headknobs characterize her green shape, the forest hues mingling over her throat and nose, almost turquoise with the lushness. Flecks of forest mingle with the jungle green that colors the almost serrated ridges down her back. Her over long wings are only a shade paler then her hide- translucent sails undulled. Her narrow torso is lined with a hint of teal down her belly, between sinewy limbs, to her thrashing tail.
Multitude of Voices Green Hatchling
Green peppers her hide in riotous abandon, a hundred different shades melding together in cacophonous harmony. Emerald mists wreath her dainty body, twisting through streaks of brilliant celadon, highlighted by a peculiar silvery-green that only nature could reproduce. The deep, secretive green of rose-leaves is speckled along flanks and forelegs, flashing between spears of grass-green. Long spars are so rich a green to be nearly black in color, while her sails are near transparent, tossing faint green shadows through their thin webbing. Amongst the living verdancy, neckridges march along her spine, a gold-marbled jade spearing from the jungle of her slender form.

R'bian falls to his knees, looking stunned. "Pheidaith!" He cries, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Pheidaith!" He cries, louder, hugging the bronze to him.

Maikan grips Tobi's hand and drags her along in his wake, following after all the dragonets on the Sands. "Look at that one, and that one, and that one, oh! And that one!" He's almost babbling in delight as he drags his sister along, just enjoying the dragon watching.

Corrosion of Honor Bronze Hatchling moves to a certain group of mixed gender, though his main ficus, of course, is on the males. With a deep rumble, he pushes this one out of his way, and nearly walks over the top of another. Finally he finds the one he wants and comes to a stop in front of Bhajear, rumbling and headbutting the lad.

Evelyn and Tenya look stunned at Robia… R'bian's Impression, but both turn away, looking for another. Tenya watches a green on the Sands, looking sparkly eyed.

Elphaba giggles a little bit, watching Galinda waggle her eyebrows at the various hatchlings covering the sands now. She moves back to her friend's side, a bit more confident now. "So, Galinda, yes. I think I'm a bit less green now.. don't quite match those ladies over there," she jerks her head toward the
Goddess of the Wilds and Multitude of Voices green hatchlings. "They look a bit off the wall." Galinda wrinkles her nose, watching the hatchlings, then is distracted for a moment when she sees the impressions. "Sweet. That one kid got passed over. Egotistical jerk. Hope he doesn't impress," she mumbles the last bit.

Beacon in the Night Brown Hatchling pauses suddenly, then turns on tail and barrel-rushes towards someone not paying very much attention to him. With a rush of sand, he slides to a stop in front of Khelin and trumpets softly, then croons, cocking one large eye on the newcome boy. Well, hello there.

Bhajear was rather upset when the first bronze chose Robiante, it seems, but he doesn't have too long to worry, as the other bronze stops infront of him, and he watches it with wide eyes. "But, but of course! You are mine, Zehebeth!"

Waves of Music Blue Hatchling
Silver mist overlays the deep cerulean of this young dragonet, sea-spray dancing about his midnight-shrouded form. Muscles gleam beneath the glistening hide, sending ripples of cerulean and topaz with each twitch and tremble. Wedge-shaped head has a curious cant to it, high-set eyeridges giving him a perpetually inquisitive aspect. Springing from his back, almost with a life of their own, oversized wings twist and swirl with every breath, swirls of silver mist and threads of green dancing within the sapphire and black gauze of his sails. His tail twists behind him, sprayed with that same silver mist over cerulean, deepening in color at the tip end of his long, thin tail.

Khelin glowers as the next bronze impresses, "What's wrong with these dragons?" he mutters, pacing back down the line again. The greens are glanced at and he smirks, "Fine ladies to amuse my strong bronze lad," he boasts. Clearly the boy has been raised with ancient attitudes regarding dragons and riders. Then he blinks as a brown comes up to him. "Or my handsome, perfect brown. Rhodeth…I'm sorry I almost missed you." K'lin pats the brown on the neck, "Let's go then. You don't need my help, come on," he encourages as the brown requests help. K'lin doesn't help, but he does wait for the brown to move after the WLM on his own.

Casiella hisses at Calanth as she tries to gather one of the Hatchlings back to her, and the gold ceases, waddling over to Casi and snorting. Loudly. She weaves her way around the pair, creeling up at Zsuzsath.

Multitude of Voices Green Hatchling takes no time making up her mind. With dainty, dancing steps, she sways towards a pair of girls, peering into first one face, then the other. Giving a cry like no other ever heard - sweet soprano dancing in the highest ranges, she butts gently at Galinda. Mine?

Goddess of the Wilds Green Hatchling utters a sound much like a whine for a long minute, staying where she was deposited on the Sands, looking rather pitiful. And finally she starts to slink forward, towards the candidates without any particular direction in mind.

Waves of Music Blue Hatchling pauses, blinking, but he's quickly up on his feet, snaking his way around the sands. He's quickly looking over a few boys, but after snorting the scent out with vehemence, he's after a patch of girls.

Aelith has been watching her clutch hatch, ignoring Calanth's eggs, of course. Aelith's children are better anyway. With a flick of tail, the older gold moves to flick a tongue over the egg closest to her. Mine!

With a triumphant cry the Multitude of Voices Green Hatchling has found its lifemate at last. After a few moments the WeyrlingMaster leads the new pair off the sands.

Calanth watches as one of her children hesitates, then cranes her next over to practically butt one of the Hatchlings into someone she believes to be good enough. That's good, right? Hurry up and get out of here, you slow pokes.

Risen From The Tomb Green Hatchling finally moves, though slightly, she gets to her feet unsteadily and attempts a long stretch, from nosetip to tailspade. The green moves slowly, now, searching a nearby group of girls, but those are dismissed with a swipe of her tail, knocking a few onto their rumps in the attempt.

Galinda squeals with just as high a soprano sound as the dragon. "Oh, Euphrath!" The name dissolves into a batch of merry giggles as Galinda pushes Elphaba to the side and takes the green's head in her hands. "You're hungry, then, sweetie?" She hugs Euphrath, then trots off the sands, urging Euphrath to hurry along. Elphaba, meanwhile, slinks towards other candidates to continue watching the hatching.

Watcher of the Bay Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Lady of the Sea Green Hatchling
A sweep of sea-green washes over this lovely lady's hide, caressing its every curve in a protectful hug. She's large for her colour, and stands ever-watchful in the midst of her clutchmates. Soft aqua washes over her tailspade and up the underside of her tail. Spikes of foamy white colour the top of her tail, seafoam and bubbly in appearance. This is a graceful girl despite her size, and she moves slowly and carefully, tending to this clutchmate or that with gentle nudges. Eyes even lack that crimson whorl of hunger, spinning a calm and loving purplish blue. Talons are of a slightly more blue in hue, sharp, but carefully kept away from others, though they do grip the ground rather soundly, it wouldn't do for her to fall, now would it?

Waves of Music Blue Hatchling is bumped by his mother, right into who he'd have chosen anyways. Evelyn. The pair tumble down to the hot sands.

Trusses of Iron Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Paris Sky at Night Blue Hatchling
Midnight blue, the color of the sky at dusk, melts over this young hatchling with even dispersal. His is quite neatly put together, with a hidden grace that only one who knows the finer things in life can exhibit. His muzzle is petite, streamlined, and perpetually held with the air of an aristocratic aloofness. His eyes are huge, the proverbial window to his soul, but constantly half-lidded in wary calculation of the world around him. His body and neck are thin and petite, hardly able to support his head and his overly large, heavy looking wings. His wings lighten towards the very middle of their delicate 'sails, taking on a golden overtone as if two strong lights shine outwards from within. His tail is also overly long, having a tendency to be wrapped up around his feet. The color darkens all the way down his tail, taking on a shade of near black at the very tip, which mirrors the color of his wingspars, neckridges, and talons.

Lady of the Sea Green Hatchling is far quicker to move the other greens hatching - She is, afterall, Calanth's daughter and not Aelith's. And so she moves hurriedly in the direction of the candidates, snorting at Yelira before moving on down the row. Who?

Twins in the Night Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Lights of Shopping Neon Blue Hatchling
This hatchling wears a coat of pure neon blue, so bright he seems lit from the inside. He is husky and squat and every angle of him is blunted, making him appear rounded and soft, like a big neon blob against the tawny of the Hatching Sands. His blunted wedge-shaped head is held up by a short, thick neck, leading directly into a stout body and large waddling legs. His wings are stubby and as short as the rest of him, almost too short in comparison with the length of his body. Each wing itself wide, however, though they still appear to be too small to allow for flight. His thick tail waves out behind him like a rudder, guiding him through the chaos on the Sands as a ship's rudder might lead her crew through a heavy storm. His hide is accented by points of nothingness - his talons, neckridges, and wingspars are a deep black, stark against his flamboyant hide. His features are distintly curious, though his rather small eyes are constantly partially lidded, with a suspicious wariness of everything around him. His movements are as chaotic as his looks, surprisingly fast for one so heavy.

Risen From The Tomb Green Hatchling snaps at the quicker green as she pushes her way past. Even a small growl escapes the small green's maw as she glowers after the Lady of the Sea Green Hatchling. She picks up the pace a bit, moving towards another group of girls and sniffing each and every one before dismissing them much as the first group. A pathetic-sounding creel escapes her as she searches and searches.

Lady of the Sea Green Hatchling pauses. What is it with this one pacing back and forth, back and forth? Why doesn't he just stay in one place? And so the green quickly puts herself between Maikan and his path of motion, bracing herself.

Paris Sky at Night Blue Hatchling squeeks, looking unhappy. Quickly, he gets up and begins to search the sands, moving with unexpected grace and poise.
Tomb of the Living God Egg remains still, with its dam standing over it and nudging it. Aelith croons softly at her favoured egg, licking it again.

Maikan, now Mi'an, stops dead in his tracks. Of course, its likely to happen with a green hatchling in one's way. After a moment of considering moving around her, he changes his mind, instead wrapping his arms around her neck. "Oh Malayth, of course we'll get you food!"

Alana peeks out from behind Aelith as the Risen from the Tomb Green creels. Blinking, the girl finds some strength in something or other and steps out from her hiding place. "Over here." Is the softly squeaked comment from girl to green.

Tenya fidgets unhappily, looking distressed. She peers at each green, but sees that both seem to know what they want, she cries out.

Proclaimer of Time Egg sits still as death.

Sochia, the silent girl in the back, bites on her lip. Having not uttered a single word all Candidacy, some think she's mute. But she wouldn't have been Searched if she was, so it's clearly a self-imposed silence. She is silent to meditate - she is silent to dwell on her own thoughts. To figure herself out before she makes any mistakes. She shifts from foot to foot, watching the dragons with curiosity but not a single noise.

Risen From The Tomb Green Hatchling turns t the squeaky voice, and makes a beeline towards Alana and Aelith. Finally, she has found the one she was looking for and skids to a stop in front of the girl, looking up at her with loving eyes. Alana smiles, tears streaking her face. "Oh Caraith, I wasn't hiding from you, I was just…" But the girl's thought is cut off by the green's request for food.

A Beacon in the Storm Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Stormed Tossed Waters Blue Hatchling
Watermarked hide is the color of the southern seas, a teal melding wetly with aquamarine over the lengthy line of neck. Where the rough neckridges mare the smoothe line, shadows of midnight surface on their knobby ridges. The wingspan is not large, but is a delicate turquoise hue that seems to shift in hazy azure shadow over the lean barrel. The muscular form is knotted with strength, corded sparsely over the limber body. Where the spicular talons flash, the plum-like color imbues them with a less sea-esque and more deadly shape. The overall shape is of lean grace, like that of a well-seasoned sailor aboard his schooner.

Evelyn cries out, looking stunned as she goes down with the little blue. "Lirith! Oh, darling, it's okay, we'll have you to rights in a jiffy. I'm sure your mom didn't *mean* to bump you so hard." And the girl's struggling up off the sand, and helping the little blue onto its feel.

Goddess of the Wilds Green Hatchling is startled out of her lethargy as one of the candidates cries out, and she quickly rushes that way, crouched low to the Sands as she nudges Tenya in the stomach with her muzzle.

Sochia only speaks through her writing, and even now her fingers itch to grab at her journal and begin recording her thoughts and what she would say. However, it is safely tucked under her mattress in the barracks, as she was told she couldn't have it out here. Her dark brown eyes watch then, absorbing everything as her heart pounds with apprehension. Silent apprehension.

Tenya cries out again, but this time in joy, as she crouches to lean against the green infront of her. "Or, Artymith!"

Paris Sky at Night Blue Hatchling wanders along, looking. He's nudging people out of the way, creeling unhappily. Then he spots Sochia, and barrels in her direction, quite noisy in his choice.

Stormed Tossed Waters Blue Hatchling shuffles about, teetering like a sailor freshly ashore. And much like a sailor on shore leave, he heads for the girls, checking each one curiously with soft snuffling and whuffling. Hmm, who shall he choose. He sits, pondering.

Sochia's eyes widen as the blue comes to her, and she is lost in those spinning and swirling eyes of her new lifemate. A blue, her blue, a voice in her mind, and she lifts a trembling hand to touch his muzzle as if afraid he'll evaporate into thin air. "Eifelth," she whispers, her voice grating and not at all pretty after its long disuse. Then she smiles, tears falling from her eyes as she drapes an arm around the blue to steady him and lead him off the Sands. She is silent, but her expression says it all.

Enlarged Visage of Leadership Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Elected Leader Brown Hatchling
Flinty angles and sharp-faced lines of hewed ochre-brown meld over the vast expanse of his hide. Far from small, his size can more often than not be summed up as 'monumental', even at this young stage of life. The jagged line of neckridges is softened, seeming by a sculptor's hands, into perfection as they march solemnly down the granite-colored line of neck. The resolute muzzle is lined with mahogany, shading back into the darkness of forest below his crag-like jawline, and sinking into equally shady tones on the wide chest. The monolithic forelimbs escape the shadows, where any glint of light is enough to make them turn a surprising sandstone. Below, that tone is mirrored in the cedar curve of perfect talons, sharp and shiny as quartz. His robust form is grizzled in places, as if the sculptor's hand merely perfected small portions of his physique. The hindquarters look like an unfinished slab of ocherous bedrock, just as large and resilient, while the length of sepia tail has all the subtlety as a freshly felled tree.

Lights of Shopping Neon Blue Hatchling is up, and he's off like a streak of lightning. Blue lightning. He's quick on his feet, surprising quite a few Candidates as he comes a little too close for comfort. He's looking at everything as he jets by, finally running smack into a smirking Istan.

Stormed Tossed Waters Blue Hatchling finally moves again, spotting someone he missed. With a bugle of charge, he moves rapidly towards Lariss, managing to catch claws on someones robe and pulling them after him. Finally, he makes it to lariss and the lad he dragged behind him has a chance to escape, hopefully. With another shrill bugle, he butts Lariss rather roughly. MINE!!

There's a commotion in the observation level then - yelling, shouting, and the distinctive sound of a smack as it echoes over the noise of the Sands. A young boy is left clinging to the railing as a snuffling Steward attempts to pull him away. "You heard the rule, no Istans! I don't care if that woman brought you back or not, you're not getting down there!"

Aelith pushes the Tomb of the Living God Egg, rolling it over and over, though as gently as she can.

Tenris, or T'ris as he'll now be known, is a rather bold lad - he's got that Istan knot on just to rub some feathers. "Baraketh!" He cries.

Lariss has been rather quiet this whole time, snootily glaring at those who Impress. And very little changes as the blue butts into her. "Hey, watch it! I don-" And her demeanor changes, then, as she leans. "A-Alexaneth? I-I guess.." And she's suddenly quiet and speechless, at least for now.

Casiella is up on her feet, glowering. "LET HIM GO!" She bellows. "I DON'T CARE IF HE'S ISTAN OR NOT!" She stamps her foot. Calanth rises, glowering dangerously at the steward, and coming up close to the boy. Her message is clear, made even more stark by the swiftly swirling red in her eyes. "If he's good enough for one of Calanth's children, he's good enough for me. Now let him go, or so help me Faranth, I'll have your head on a stick." Casi sounds almost halfway amused, smirking at Niva.

Niva crosses the platform, reaching to grab the back of Casiella's clothing, pulling her back. "This is /my/ weyr, and /I/ make the rules. Not you, you little spoiled snot." Growling, she waves the Steward on, the boy still clinging to the railing, the Steward still tugging. Casiella is not leg go of either. "Don't make me transfer you. Not that anyone would take you, with your insubordination."

Elected Leader Brown Hatchling croons unhappily, scrabbling at the wall to the observation level. He screams now, his wailing wrenching a few of those in the observation level.

Jehann lets out a kick at the Steward, wiggling and finally managing to get free long enough to jump over the relatively low barrier to the sands, ending up in a pile on the ground. The Steward meanwhile has no intention of making such an ungraceful move, and so calls for help as he rushes for the ground entrance.

Casiella turns to push at Niva. "Let me go, you crackpot!" She snarls back. "Everything that has happened to Xanadu is your fault. You couldn't transfer me if you wanted to, Daddy wouldn't allow it. And you can't make rules that aren't right or unfair, no matter who the shells you are. Now let me go!" She pushes again at Niva, trying to free herself. Calanth, meanwhile, puts herself pointedly in between the boy and anyone who might try to come between him and the Hatchling. She snarls, ending it in a growl.

Lyn leans over the railing as she notices the commotions, "Let the dragons decide, they know better than any of us who is fit to be a rider here." Yeah she might get a reprimand for calling out like that, but she doesn't care. She is from Ista and wants to see that boy impress if he may.

Elected Leader Brown Hatchling goes from screeching to creeling, waddling over to rub against Jehann nervously, chattering at him a mile a minute.

Niva smiles almost sweetly at Casiella, as she tightens her hold on Casiella. "Don't you realize, your daddy loves me more then he loves you. And I'm the Senior. Which means my rules are the rules that go. I suppose you haven't realized that yet, have you?" Pause. "Besides, if its all my fault, you should be more fearful. I can summon tremors, blight, and assassins." Niva is distracted for a moment at the continuing commotion, gaze narrowing at the voice from the galleries, and the creeling brown, releasing Casiella and crossing to the railing to stare down at exactly what's happening.

Jehann stands where he is on the ground, merely wrapping his arms tiredly around the brown. "Wachinth.. I'm here. No one's going to take me away.." And the pair stay there for a long moment. The Steward, meanwhile, has reached the ground level entrance, and stops dead in his tracks, staring at them. Now what?

Casiella is shaking in anger. "You're an idiot, Niva." She says, shaking her head. "And if you keep it up, you'll be a dead idiot. You may have the power to send assassins after Weyrleaders you don't like, but don't think they don't have that same power. "Besides, you have my daddy bewitched. He loves Alhenaeth, then me, and maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he loves you and that snotnosed daughter of yours." Would you like a shovel, Casi? "Besides, I'm worthy. I Impressed a gold. Better yet, I Impressed the daughter of YOUR gold." She smirks. "But try to transfer me. Just try." She jumps over the railing to the Sands, going to the boy and his brown. "You're right. It is okay." She eyes the Steward. "I'd back up a few steps, if I were you. Calanth *is* one of Kilaueth's daughter. She's a little insane." Just to make a point, Calanth snaps at the man. Hey! Big angry gold! Pay attention to me!

Tomb of the Living God Egg still doesn't move, doesn't crack, doesn't do anything. Aelith starts to creel at it, nudging it harder and harder and glowering at Calanth. This is all the young gold's fault, afterall! Aeris sighs, coughing she moves over to Niva and Casiella. "Umm, excuse me, guys. I don't think this is the place for it." Haha! Fear the coughing and paleness of the plump woman. She watches Aelith, briefly. "I think it's over, Niv." The woman says quietly, eyeing the two unmoving eggs with a frown.

Tomb of the Living God Egg starts to do its movement then, but then it stills, movement ceasing.

Niva has far more dignity then Casiella, and so she takes the long way around, moving across the sands to regrasp the back of Casiella's shirt. "Boy. You and your brown had best go with the weyrlingmasters." And that's all she says, the Steward moving out of the way. Casiella, meanwhile, is hissed at. "He loves me, and both of our daughters. /That's/ why he lives with us, and not that mother of yours. Either way, I plan on being alive a lot longer then you, and at your rate, that won't be a problem. Now settle that monster of yours." And she violently pushes Casiella away, stalking back to the platform, with only a passing glance at Aeris and the unmoving eggs. Not her problem.

Calanth puts herself in the path of Niva, now, and eyes her, hissing.

Tomb of the Living God Egg is going to prove the rider of its dam wrong, apparently as it moves, though maybe not even enough to be noticed.

Calanth senses that Kilaueth lets a thunderous rush of fire lose in the mind of the Junior. « You are out of line. Yours is out of line. You will stop, or I will make you stop. » The whole senior queen, thing.

Aeris shakes her head at the two other weyrwoman, no respect, sheesh. "You guys are rediculous, really you are. I'm going back to the only sane person here, Aelith." And with that, the coughing and sneezing weyrwoman moves back to her gold.

Tomb of the Living God Egg has started moving, and cracks cover the shell, some big, some small.

Tomb of the Living God Egg can withstand no more - the cracks over the surface have done their job, and the egg shell falls apart in pieces, leaving its occupant behind.

Silhouette of The Sphinx Brown Hatchling
Felinesque, that's one way to describe this fine fellow. Finely sculpted sandy brown, this creature is somehow statuelike, striking a pose and holding it, head high. The colour of sandy brown is all-encompassing, clinging over the body as if the freshly hatched dragonet was created by some great sand-sculptor. Movement is deliberate and slow, he seems to think before he moves, not wasting any of his precious energy. Sharp features stand out in chiseled points, no softly rounded edges on this guy. He seems to be in fully gown proportions, just, well, miniaturized.

Casiella whirls, but Niva's already gone. "Monster." She snorts. "Well, now it looks like my 'monster' is in your way, dimglow. And seeing as how I'm a third of your age, I think you'll be dead Turns before I am." Under her breath, she mutters, "if I have to arrange it myself." She laughs. "And Daddy's afraid of Mum, really. She's too much for him. She's too much for just about any man. Not half as crazy as you are, but too much." Calanth doesn't move.

Kilaueth senses that Calanth is angry. «Kilaueth, you know that I am not one to be rash. But *yours* is the one out of line. Mine is young, and she has tact to learn, true. But yours is being dimglowed, and don't you dare scold me, because you know it's true. Now, please tell her to act her age and dignity, instead of carrying on like a four Turn old!»

Silhouette of The Sphinx Brown Hatchling is finally free from its prison of darkness! The figure strikes a pose, glistening wetly in the middle of the sands. A deep bugle is issued forth, to draw all attention upon himself. He should be the center of attention, and he demands it, right this second!

Niva rolls her eyes at Casiella's continued talking, eyes darting upwards at the gold. Yet, she doesn't make any attempt to move, instead straightening and folding her arms infront of her. Why should she be scared? However, as the brown hatches from the once still egg, she does move enough to avoid being in the way. "At least all Aelith's eggs hatched. More then I can say for yours."

Calanth sense that Kilaueth is the power, though. Which must be remembered. « Yours is acting no more mature. She's fewer turns to act up to, and yet she still fails. Mine makes the decisions she feels she must. Now, you will let mine pass.» And this time the Senior leaves no room for argument, pushing with full force against the younger one.

Aeris grins to Aelith. "True, all your lovely eggs hatched and look at hers, there's one that hasn't moved. Ha! I knew that gold wasn't a good mother, they should spay her, or something." The woman is, of course, speaking to her gold. Not really caring who else hears. Aelith warbles her amused agreement. « That's because mine were the best. Of course! » No pride in this gold, nope, not at all.

Casiella snorts. "Aelith is older, experianced. It is not uncommon for a young gold to lay a dud." She says, primly, drawing herself up. She stalks across the Sands to stand behind her gold. "Kilaueth, too, has had duds in her lifetime. And we both know that Calanth doesn't like the Sands. It's ungoldly of her, like everything else she does." Casiella affectionately pats the golden side. Calanth is stubborn, a true child of Kilaueth, glowering down at Niva. Casiella, for all her brave words, has obviously been affected by the older woman's words. Tears glimmer in the corners of her eyes, and she bites her lip painfully. "You are no better then Dariana, Niva. And you will meet the same end unless you change now. You do not see what goes on around you. You make decisions out of greed, instead of for the good of the Weyr. Step up, or step down!" Her challenge to the Senior rings through the Hatching Grounds.

Kilaueth senses that Calanth pushes back strongly. «Mine is neither Senior, nor older! She holds sixteen Turns, and the slightly less then sparkling example of your rider, Kilaueth. I am your daughter. I chose Casiella because she has potential, the same reason you chose Niva. Yours does not listen to the advice of those wiser. And she speaks to wound, like a young child might. She will not pass until she apologizes!»

Calanth doesn't so much as fidget, but she turns to eye Aelith, grievously.

Silhouette of The Sphinx Brown Hatchling does not have all the attention, that just won't do. And the young brownling will trounce over to where the two goldriders and Calanth are. With a bugle at them, he regards them stoicly, almost scoldingly. How dare they take his spotlight? But soon he feels a rumble in his tummy and turns away from the 'rude' females to head towards what's left of the candidates. A snort, and the brown sits there, regarding each and every remaining candidate judgementally. That one's too fat, that one too skinny…That one's too tall, that one too short…Hmm.

Aelith snorts, not amused by the show on the sands, stealing her final son's spotlight. « Rude, absolutely rude. » She notes, warm pastels darkening in upset.

Niva smirks at Aeris's words, turning back to Casiella. "Go ahead and cry, it shows how weak you are. How you're incapable of seeing the big picture. How your head is so far up your rear, you wouldn't know /what/ hit you. Kilaueth has never laid a dud. You would do best to shut your mouth, learn your facts, and step out of the way." Niv does indeed step forward at the challenge, though only to set a smack across Casiella's face before she turns, headed towards the side exit where Kilaueth has settled, the older, larger gold moving out to ensure she makes it all the way there. Pausing, she turns back to Casiella. "Your eggs are hatched. Get off the Sands, now. We'll take care of the incompetence of your lifemate." And so Niv's attention is turned to the brown wandering instead, any further words from Casiella plainly ignored.

Calanth's voice rings out strongly. «We are a Weyr, Kilaueth, Aelith. Not a single gold. Yet at every turn, we fall into discord. Your eggs are not better, Aelith, because of who you are. You are a gold. You hold experiance I do not. This Weyr is on a path to failure unless all of us can find harmony, metallic and chromatic alike, within ourselves and each other. Your rider is out of line, Kilaueth. *I* will take care of my own. If yours cannot handle being Senior, she needs to get out of the Weyr. But she will not be tolerated much longer.» The gold prophesizes.

Ysamieth washes out a rather loud voice for him, normally contained of a measure of containment of power since he hatched. Icy tones mix with sand abrasion in a blizzard of snowfall. «Could all, mayhap take this to a place where all of those that came to watch CANNOT see the fools we make of our golds?»

Kilaueth is pissed. It should be plainly obvious by the fiery hues of her mind, and the sound of her voice. « Calanth. You and yours will remove yourself immediately. Mine is in her spot. Mine will have me bespeak the other seniors, to remove you, if you do not do so yourself. » The rest of the 'prophecy' is simply ignored.

Calanth roars at the slap, and tears spring into Casiella's eyes. "You are not worthy of Senior!" She cries at the retreating woman. "You harsh, old bag!" Straps or not, she scrambles up Calanth's side, tears streaming down her face. Calanth gently turns, rider blancing on a neckridge, gathering her egg to herself, then disappears without so much as lifting from the Sands.

Faelynath's voice, misty and drifting, scented faintly of jungle flowers, floats through the others's words like a cloud through a blizzard, « Speechy speeches speaking speech… »

Calanth snarls. «You needn't worry, Kilaueth.» And then, her mind touch is gone.

Aelith snorts softly. « You say this, now, after the way you acted throughout the sand-sitting. You and your rider are the ones in the wrong. Not that I approve of Kilauth's rider's banning of Istans and Igens, but she is senior for a reason. And if everyone would just knock it off and get along, maybe we can salvage our weyr's reputation. » The elder gold has spoken, and so, now she turns her attention back to what it's supposed to be on, the final hatchling wandering the sands.

Calanth trumpets to the WatchRider, informing them of her departure, then gives a mighty flap, heaving herself even higher, abruptly disappearing into the freezing cold of *~*Between.*~*

Ysamieth curls his tail with Faelynath's, fixedly staring outward.

Silhouette of The Sphinx Brown Hatchling is still ignored, even by the candidates, hrm. And so he just stays quiet, tail and wings sagging. He continues to examine the candidates, not that any are paying attention anymore. Finally, he finds one that's not too tall, not too short, not too pudgy, not too skinny, and with just the right colour hair. He moves towards the Istan candidate that was searched behind Niva's back and croons up at him.

Kharis, now K'ris, circles his arms about the young brown's neck. "Of course Khufuth, I should've been paying attention to you, I'm sorry. Let's get you something to eat."

Liraeth sends a rumble throughout the weyr, «Me and mine are ashamed of everything that has happened on the sands today and will be taking our leave of this weyr»

Aelith is relieved and saddened both at the results of the hatching. « It starts. » She sends ever so quietly in a dragonsigh at Liraeth's proclamation.

Ysamieth grumbles, a sandstorm and a blizzard blowing up slowly into something akin to disaster in a brain. «Liraeth has the right of it. We are loyal to the place of our hatching, but this is wrong. Where is the honour in this? What does it achieve?»

Aeris sighs and her shoulders seem to sag. "Let's go, Aelith, obviously we're not needed here anymore." And the eldest goldpair are off the sands, leaving Niva alone to soothe the candidates that didn't manage to impress.

Niva steps way from Kilaueth as the others golds vanish, calmly explaining to them that they are welcome to stay or go, no matter their origins. And then she's headed off herself, calling a variety of riders to her before she even clears the Sands.

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